Treebeard's Father
by Tom Bombadilo
Summary: I do not know what to say about this story. It was supposed to be funny, but it turned out way too serious. Although there is no way it could happen, I had fun writing it. So who is Treebeard's father anyway?


**Treebeard's Father **

_By… (Shivers shamefully) _

_A/N: This is a pathetic little story that I love to read because it sets me laughing every single time. I think it was supposed to be funny, but it is just too seriously written. The premise is impossible, I know, but who cares about impossibilities? They are the best material for stories, in my opinion. LOL! _

* * *

_Do you know who Treebeard's father was? This is the amazing account of how it happened. You see, ironically enough, Saruman was Treebeard's father. This is how the story goes. _

When Saruman first entered Middle-earth, he was not bad at heart; he was unreservedly on the side of good. One day, in high summer, he happened to be wandering in the young woods of what later became Fangorn Forest. The birds were singing; life was visible everywhere he looked. It was one of the most beautiful days that the forest would ever see. Saruman smiled, watching the sunlight shine through the glossy leaves, accentuating the vibrant green color that was visible in every growing thing from the tops of the trees to the undergrowth flourishing at their bases. Saruman stood in silent awe for the space of a few minutes, just drinking in the sights he saw around him.

Presently, he heard a far-off thudding. He did not know what it was, so he simply stood riveted in place, the noise growing louder every half-second. Soon, the stomping was upon him. Out of the tall boughs stepped a tree, just a bit shorter than the other trees, but no less intimidating. Seeing the wizard, the tree stopped and bowed.

"I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," she said. It was in fact an Ent-wife! Saruman had never seen a moving tree of any kind before. He did not know what to make of it.

"Hello to you," he replied. "Might I inquire as to your name?"

She took a step nearer and said, "My name is Slender-leaf. And you are Saruman, I presume?"

The wizard nodded quizzically. "How did you know?"

"Gandalf told me how you enjoyed wandering the woods, even more so than him. I just assumed it was you."

After that day, the two became fast friends. They did everything together, and Saruman scarcely left the woods. Slender-leaf was his best friend in all of Middle-earth. He would sing for her, and she would listen in joy to his song. He had a wonderful singing voice in his younger years, which he lost ages after. He would write songs to sing for her, and she would always listen as he presented them to her.

As the years passed, Saruman began to forget that Slender-leaf was an ent. He nearly saw her as a beautiful young maiden, with almost an elven beauty. Before long, he realized that he was in love. What he did not know was that she felt the same way about him.

On a lovely summer's eve, they were married, promising love to one another for as long as the world lasted. Saruman did not heed the Valar's strict order not to marry, but they barely noticed.

The two lived in happiness in the heart of the forest for many long years—years that seemed as if they were scarcely a day. And on a chilly winter's morning, Slender-leaf had an enting. Saruman decided on the name Fangorn, or Treebeard, in the common tongue. For two hundred years they remained in the woods, until came a summer night that wrecked all. Saruman had just returned from the stream fetching some Ent-draught, when he entered the capacious Ent-house and noticed that no one was there. Slender-leaf was gone! He searched frantically throughout the forest, but he could not find her. Not even a trace. He slumped down at the base of a wide tree and began to sob. How could he live without Slender-leaf? Fangorn tried to comfort him, but it was a futile effort.

As the years passed sleepily in the woods, Saruman did not give up hope that someday she might return, but when the 400th year of her absence arrived, he relinquished all hope and left the forest, never to return. Hidden in his heart was a lingering dismay and depression, a serious sense of loss. Something in his mind impelled him to think that in some way it was the forest's fault. Fangorn Forest had ruined his life, and he would have his revenge one day. His love for Slender-leaf was at last consumed by the gnawing despair in his heart and mind. He no longer cared for growing things. Now, the mechanical world fascinated him.

The tower of Orthanc in Isengard became his new abode, given to him by caring Gondorians. But in this place, Saruman hatched plans of revenge. He hardly remembered why the forest angered him so—all he knew was that he would have his revenge if it were the last thing he did.

As you know, many years later Saruman came to no good. He began to consort with Sauron, the abhorred one, wishing that he might have power for himself over everything that walked the earth. But in the meantime, the forests that he had once so loved would fall. They would be wasted in the furnaces of the underground pits beneath Isengard. They would create the fires of industry.

However, his evil deeds came back to haunt him. After Treebeard discovered what Saruman had done, he was infuriated. How could his own father have wasted some of his best friends' lives, just to feed his fires? This had to be stopped. He called upon an army of Ents to follow him as they marched on Isengard.

"My father dealt this destruction against our brothers," he said. "As he is my father, it will be my duty to bring about his downfall. Follow me, all!" The Ents destroyed Isengard, flooding the Orc-breeding pits and the entire valley with a great deluge of water. But Saruman was unattainable up in his dark tower of stone.

"Saruman!" Fangorn called up to his father. "Why are you doing this? How could you have come to hate so profusely the forest you once loved so much?"

"Son," Saruman called down to Fangorn, "this is none of your affair. Begone, and I will spare you above the others."

"What power do you have left?" asked Treebeard. "Hoom. It seems to me that your armies are destroyed, your home wasted. Will you not come down? There is nothing left for you here. We, the trees, will forgive you if you will repent of your dreadful crimes against us."

Saruman was lost in thought. Why did he hate the trees so much now? It seemed he had no reason that he could recall. His mind brought back memories of the time he had spent with Slender-leaf—the love they had shared in his youth. Why now did he hate the trees? He was almost resigned to do as his son bid, but a surly voice called to him from behind.

"Will we do as they bid?" it said. "Are we now so weak that we have no strength to fight back? I thought you said that we could never lose." The voice, of course, was Wormtongue. The words he spoke weakened Saruman's resolve. Of course, he could not turn back now! He was too far gone down his path of evil. He had done too much damage. He was inclined to refuse. He went back to the window.

"I will not come down," he shouted. "I will no longer recognize you as my son. Begone, if you will!" Saruman's pride was ultimately his downfall, because no matter how much he wanted to be reconciled with his son, his haughty spirit would not allow for it.

Fangorn felt an Entish tear roll down his cheek as he turned to the other trees.

"Very well," he said sadly. "Let us stay here and guard the valley until Gandalf shows us what is to be done with him."

It is a very sad story. It could have ended happily had Saruman forgotten his pride for a few minutes and listened to Fangorn. But then, not all tales can have happy conclusions.

**Finis **


End file.
